You’re nearly there-look ahead and to your left, and you’ll spot a rather sturdy-looking old stone church just where the road bends. Notice how it sits almost like a small fortress, with a long nave, pointed arch windows, and a grand tower rising up at the end, like a medieval guardian keeping watch over the entrance to the town. That’s St Benedict’s Church, with its stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain, and its battlement-style top that’s pretending to be a little castle. The tower’s the part that really stands out, with its tall, narrow windows and chunky buttresses pressing on each side, keeping everything nice and stable. If you hear the bells ring out, you’ll know you’re in the right spot!
Now, have a look around and imagine you’re standing here, maybe a little shivery from the chilly Somerset air, clutching a fresh pasty from up the road. You’re gazing at a church that got its start nearly a thousand years ago-as far back as the 11th century! People first built it as a Norman chapel, but, as you can probably tell, the church couldn’t stop growing. Over the centuries, it’s gathered extra bits and bobs-like that impressive tower added in the 1400s, and a brand new aisle and porch from an abbot who probably liked his Sunday mornings to be roomy.
Don’t be fooled by the name, either. It started off being dedicated to Saint Benignus, but someone mixed up their saints, and soon enough, it became St Benedict’s instead. Classic case of mistaken identity in the medieval paperwork, really. This place is Grade I listed, meaning it’s officially got more historical charm than a pancake has syrup.
Now, look up at those windows-lovely, aren’t they? The stained glass twinkles in the sunlight, but you’ll have to use your imagination for the ones that were replaced in the 1800s, after a fair bit of Victorian tinkering and tidying up. Speaking of changes, the church recently had a major facelift in 2014, so it’s looking pretty sharp for a centuries-old building!
Listen closely-sometimes if it’s very quiet, you’ll catch the faint echo of one of the six bells, five of which date all the way back to 1776. That’s a lot of Sunday mornings ringing through Glastonbury. And if you peered inside, you’d spot a little stone basin, called a piscina, left from the 13th century, where priests used to wash the sacred vessels.
This spot once belonged to the grand old Glastonbury Abbey, before Henry VIII sent his men marching through, dissolving monasteries like a kid crumbling biscuits into tea. Nowadays, it stands together with its sister churches, sharing stories and Sunday services, looking after the town as it always has.
So give a nod to St Benedict’s-part fortress, part sanctuary, and a brilliant piece of Glastonbury’s ever-unfolding story. Now, onward to our next stop, unless you want to stay and see if you can hear those famous bells!
